



Author 



Title 



Imprint 




A ' ■> 



^^EYANGELINE. 



^ Mltiiiafie IpsitECiilHir Mmmu in m^ M§, 



Arranged and adapted for the Stage 



BY 



ROB'X ISr. TRA--V^EE,, 



From Longfellow's BeantibI Poera. 



FREEMAN PRINT, ALBANY, MO. 
AUGUST, 1878. 



EVANGELINE« 



I l^ijItteBfio |)|#ii^^fe? flfwm in jtv^ 1 



m^ m§ 



Arranged and adapted for the Stage 



BY 



mOB'T INT. TR.A."V"]B3a. 



Frora Longfellow's Beaotifal Poem, 



FREEMAN PRIKT, ALBANY^ M0. 
AUGUSTy 1878« 



,H '1 



INTRODUCTION. 

This Drama was begun some three years ago and outlined 
'o the end of the first act^ At Joplin, Missouri, in the spring 
of 1876y Manager Selden Irwin desired its completion for 
represantion at that place, and the last four acts were outlin* 
ed in one afternoonj but the Joplin engagement was not re- 
munerative to the Irwin's arid the work progressed do further. 
In tills condition the manuscript remained until this day, 
August Ist 187S^ when it was brought out and placed before 
me on a printers case in the office of The Freeman, and revisi 
ed, extended, and put in type out of a fount of Burgoisethat 
has seen over thirty years hard service west of the Missouri. 
Therefore this adoption from Longfellow's pome, be its merits 
or demerits what they may, is in every essential particular 
the result of my own labor and no reflection on account of its 
short comings are to be thrown on ^the printer^' 

Throughout this drama the argument of the Poet is closely 
tol lowed and care hus been, taken not to put into the mouths 
of the characters a word that conflicts with the original con* 
ception. 

Old Michael is believed to be an original character. Herman 
and Christy, if not purely original conceptions, have passages 
of fun and pathos in which the laugh sometimes lies very 
close to the fountain of tears. The transfer of Gabrial's death 
from the hospital to the street, is the only one at variance 
with the poem, and that is made for stage eftect. 

Further than this the Drama is presented to speak for 
itself. Respectfully, Robt. N. Traveb. 



CAST OF CIlABACTERSc 

Oabrial, betrothed to Evangeline, 
LaBlanche, Viliiage Priest and Pedagogue. 
Benedict, Farmer ot Graud Pre. 
Basil, the Village Blacksmith. 
Michael, an Old Fiddler. 
BAPTISTIE5 in love with Evangeline. 
Herman, a Friend to Posterity. 
Officer of the Guard. 
Priest of the Mission. 
Evangeline, betrothed to GabnaL 
Ohristy, a girl who coincides with Herraan. 
Tame Fawn, an Indian Maiden . 
LtLLiNEAU, a Spirit. 

Benedict. ) Children of Herman and Christy, 
Annette. \ and hopeful scions of posterity. 
Villagers, Soldiers, Priests, Indians, Plantation 
hands. Boatmen, &c. &c. &c. 



EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 

M' fneans Right ^ L.Left; R. D. Right Boor; L . l\ Left Door 

S. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance. M. l>. Middle Dootr 

RELATIVE POSITIONS. 

R, msam Rignt; L Left ; C. Center ; R. G. Right of Center ; 

L. C. Left of Center. 



EVA-israELiisrE. 



ACT FIRST. 

^CENElsL-^Old Fashioned Kitchen, with wide mouth fire^ 
place. Spinning wheelt c&c. 

FaTin^r and Evangeline discovered, Farmer smoking and 
Evangeline at wheel spinning, Music. 

BENKDiCT.—Ceaee thy spinning, girl, and sit thee here at 
my feet, {Evangeline brings stool and sits at Farmer'' s feet.) This 
day firt thou seventeen. A dutitui aud an obedient child hast 
thou been, but u 'w thou arl a child dd longer. Thou art now 
H woman, with the heart and hopes of a woman. These gray 
hairs and thiti old and worn form will sooa be laid at rest, 
and the joys and sorrows and cares of this hfe will rest with 
it. Bu: the. hope of my old age will live with thee, my child. 
This night art thoa to be afSanced to young GabriaL Search 
vrell thy heart, aud answer me truly ^ is it well with thee? 

Evangeline,— Father, Gabriai and I have grown in love and 
ypars togetl^er. From earli-;st child 1 ^od we have walked our 
village paths hand ui hand, and Father LeBlan ^ Priest and 
pedagogue in the village, taagut us both our lette. out of 
the self-same book, with the hymns of the church and plain 
songs. Years have served but to consecrate our lives, one to 
the other, and «ow, father, even as Gabriai loves me with his 
whole heart, 8o do I aisoj love him. 

Benedict.— My child, it is well. Chou hast been a cheerful 
light to thy fathers house, and will bring to thy husbands de- 
light and abundance, Sliing it with lovej andj raayha j, with 
ebe ruddy faces of children, {A knock ) it* is Basil, the black. 



EVANGELINE. 6 

smith, and tby flushed face and beating heart tells thee who 
is with him. Raise, thee, the latch and admit them. Evan-- 
geline operis the door. 

Enter Basil and Gabrial. 

Benedict — Welcome both. Welcome Basilj my fiiend; 
comej take thy place on the settle, close by the chimney side 
which • ever empty without thee; take from the shelf oven 
head thy p^'pe and tobacco. Never so much thyself art thou 
as when throu^'h the curling tmoke of the pipe r r the forge 
thy friendly, jovial, face gleams round and red as the harvest 
moon through the mist of marshes. 

Gabrial and Evangeline walk apart. 

Basil — Benedict Belfountaine thou hast ever thy jest and 
thy ballad. Ever in cheerfulest mood art thou when others 
are fill .] with gloomy forbodings of ill, and see only ruin be- 
fore them. Happy art thou as if every day thou badst pick-^ 
ed lip a hoise-shoe. Lights his vipe. 

Oabrial.- (Aiwindovjmth E angeline.) See; Evangeline, is it 
not beautiful. This is the season called by the pious Arcadian 
peasants, the Summer of All Saints. Filled is the air with a 
dreamy and a magical light, and this landscape lavs as if new 
created in all the freshness of childhood. Peace seems to 
reign upon the earth, and the restless heart of the ocean is for 
a moment consol d. All sounds are in haimony blended ; all 
are as subdued and low as the murmurs of love^and the great 
suv;. Icoks with an eyo of kindness through the golden 
vapors around him. 

Evangeline — Y^s, Gabrial, this is the hour of ref-t, of affec* 
tion and of tHtil'T -ss. Day with its burdens and heat has de« 
parted and twill; ht dt fccei.ding brings back the e't-ening star 
to the sky and herds To the homestead. Now age has its hour 
ot memory and of rest, &nd youth its dream of elyseum and 
bright hopes for the future. This is God's grand hour of 
prayerj and the last gleams of the golden sun are His glorious 
benediction of "Peacp on earth and good will to man.'' 

Benedict. — Here by the wide mouth fire place all day I've 
idly sat watching the flames and the smoke wreaths struggle 
together, like fof 8 in a bujning city, nodding pnd marching 
fi'org the wal'p with i?f st!ir<^p fantastic. But what is the ti- 
dings without? 

BASiL.--Four days are past now since the English ships at 
anchor ride in the Gospereaus mouth with their cannons 
pointed against us. Wbattheii design may be 5s unknown, 
but all are commanded on the morrow to meet on the com- 
mon before the church, where will be proclaimed the kings 



EVANGELINE. 7 

wii: as law in the lan<i Alas, in the meantime many surmi- 
Bes of evil alarm the hearts of the people. 

Benedict.— Perhaps some frieudlier purpose brings these 
people to our shores. Perhaps the harvests of England by un- 
timely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted and from 
our bursting barns they would fill their cattle and children 

Basil.— Not so thinketh the people in the village, Louis - 
burg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sojoierj nor Port Royal. Ma- 
ny have already fled to the fort and lurk on its outskirts wait^ 
ing with anxious hearts the dubious issue of to-morrow 
Arms have been taken from us; and warlike weapons of all 
kinds ; Nothing is left us but the blacksmiths sledge and 
the scythe of the mower. ® 

Benedict.— Safer are we unarmed in the midst of our flocks 
and corafieldsj safer in these peaceful dykes beseiged by the 
ocean, than our fathers in fores beseiged by eneraie's cannon. 
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sor- 
row fall on this house and hearth ; for this is the night of the 
contract. Father LeBlance will be here anon with his paper 
and ink-horn. Shall we not then be glad and rejoice in the 
joy of our children. 

GABUiAh.—{Siill at window.) See, Evangeline, where Father 
LeBlance, bent like a laboring oar that toils in the surf of the 
ocean, comes slowly down the street. 

Evangeline.— Heaven bless him, Gabrial, for he has been 
our teacher and our guide. 

Gabrial —Bent but not broken is the form of the good old 
man. Four loug years in time of war he languished in an old 
French fort. He is the father of twenty children, and a score 
of grand children have sat upon his knee and listened to his 
great watch tick. 

Evangeline.— See. Solemnly down the street he comes' 
and the children, like you and I in days gone by, pause in 
their play to kiss the hand he extends to bless them and 
maids and matrons rise up to hail his approach with words 
of welcome I He is here. 

Evangeline opens door — Enter LeBlance— ^^^ rise with ac- 
tion of great reverence. 

All. — Welcome, Father, welcome. 
LeBlance. — Peace be with you all. 
Evangeline places chair for LeBlance opposite Farmer. Basil re»* 
mains standing at R. Gabrial and Evangeline l. 
Others seated. 



EVANGELINE. 8 

Baeil — {Knocking ashes from p{pe)-^FatheT LeBiance thoul 
hast heard the talk in the village, and, perehance, thou canst 
tell us some news of these ships and their errand. 

LeBl/.xce. — Gossip enough have I heard in sooth, yet am 
never the wiser. And what their errand may be I know no 
better than others. Yet I am not one of those who imagine 
some evil intention brings them here, for we are at peace and 
why then molest us. 

Basil. — {EoocitecUy.'} God^sname! Must we in all things look 
for the how, and the why, and the wherefore! Daily injustice 
is done, and {doggedly) might is the right of the stronger, 

LeBlakce. — {Quietly,) Man is unjust, but God is just, and 
finally justice triumphs, 

Benedict. — {Rising to his feel) Come^ Iriends come. This 
is a x.-'iht tor giadcess and for mirth. Cast care and sorrow 
unto the monow. Father LcBlance bast thou brought the 
contract with thee ? 

LeBlakce —I have. 

Benedict. — The date, the «ames and the ages of the. parties, 
along with the dower of the bride ir> flocksof sheep and cat* 
tie ; all, ali is as I ordered it ? > 

LeBlance. — {Producing coniracL) All, as you ordered it, h 
fairly and clearly set forth. 

Benedict —Then all is welK Let the signing of the con- 
tract begin. 

Benedict goes to Evangeline, embraces and kisses her — action 

of intense feeling, then slowly passes her hand in GahriaVs* 

who stands up R. C. with Basil, Gahrial leads 

Evangeline to table where LeBlance has ^prepared 

papers. Both sign— Gahrial firsts Music i 

Benedict-— Now, Basil, we will witness the bond and coj:2J 
plete thie compaci; between oiir son and our daughter. 

They sign. All the characters then come to e. , where 
Gabrial and Evangeline kneel ^ Benedict and Basil stand 
at R. & L. F. LeBlance at bach with hands extended in bkss-^ 
ing them. Music and slow change of scene^, 



EVANGELINE. 



Scene 2nd. — Front Wood. 

Enter Old Michael, with fiddle, 

Michael. — Ah, ha ! Gay times are these among the young 
folks find happy ones too ; for this day is the feast and the 
dance in honor of the belrothral of young G-abrial and Evan- 
geline. Ah well, ah well, let them enjoy themselves, says 
old Michael, for it isn't all who like htm find gray hairs co- 
vering a cheerful heart. 

Enter Christy. 

Michael. — What Christaua, goin^ to the merrymaking 
aloae! What have you done with young Herman? 

Christy. — Done with him! ma? How do you suppose I 
know where the stupid fellow is^ 

Michael- — Ho, ho ! So you have quarreled, have you ! 
That will never do Christam. Make it up ciiild, make it up. 
Life has enough of sorrow ani of piin that comes unbiddeUj 
?ind little wisdom have they who add to its burdens. 

Christy.— Old Michael, you don't know whac you are talk'* 
ing about. One can't put up with everything a stupid fellow 
does. 

Michael. — Ahj Christy, you dont know the world. You 
can't tune men and women like fiddles in a conoerti all to 
cord in harmony; and if you do once in a while get them up 
to the proper pitch, just as like as not a string breaks and 
then, lo! the discard, i^ow [ (tuning fiddle) should just as 
soon think of quarreling with myfiddle for being out of tune 
as you with your lover for being out of sight. {Plays a lively 
air.) That's better cnan hard words or moody thoughts. 

Christy. — That is all very well for you, but you were uever 
in love. 

Michael. — Oh yes, I was. 

Christy.— With whom? 

Michael.— My fiddle. 

Christy. — Pshaw! Your fiddle! Avery interesting sweet- 
heart, truly. 

Michael, — And we have quarreled, too. 

Christy.— Indeed, and how did you make it up. 

MiCHiaL — By a little care and condecension on my part, 
and a proper ooisideration of thetaelings of the fiddle; for it 



10. EVANGELINE. 

has feelings^ ycu see, {Flays.) and responds according to the 
touch of its mastf r. Kow men are like fiddles: not always in 
tuiie, and an overstraiu may break them. But handle them 
riglit, and they will respond to your touch and play any note 
you may desire. You understand. {Plays) Now take the 
advice of old Michael, and you will soon bring Herman 
around to the ri^ht key again. And now, Christyj I must 
away to the merrymaking. 

Exit Michael dardvy and playing quickstep. 

Chbisty.— Thats al! old Michael knows abou love, but there 
may be seme sense in what he f-aid about tuning fiddles. I 
wonder, though, if I can bjing Hetman up again to the right 
pitch. But — pthawj there aie other young men in the vil. 
lage as good as he is. But — butj I don't {hesitatingly) believe 
1 can like them quite as well. Ah, here the stupid fellow is 
now. ril not look at him. Down f. f. Turns her hack l. 

Enter Herman l. Stops shamefaced and abashed at seeing Christy. 

HERMAN.—Cbristy. 

Christy. — Herman, 

Herman— Well, Christy. 

Christy,— Well, Herman 

Herman-— Did you send for me, Christy. 

Christy.— Did / send for j ou ? W^hat a question ! 

Herman.— But you thought you wanted to seod for me, 
didn't you, Christy ? 

Christy. — Indeed ! and why should I send for ycu ? 

Herman.— But you love me, don't you, Chri?ty? 

Christy.- No 1 don't. {Sobs) You are too cruel. Sobs. 

Herman.— Me cruel to you^ Christy. Why 1 love you. 

Christy.— No you don'tj and, besides, {crying) I hate you! 

Herman.— Hate me Christy, and wherefore ? 
Ch risty.— BecauFC, because — 

Both have approached, backward to center of stage. 

BEEUAii.^{Putting arm about CAm^3/) Because what ? Christy. 
She droops her head on Herrnon's shoulder) Its all right now. 

Christy.— (^s?rfe) The fidale's in tune. 

Herman.— (ASo/i!^3/) My Christy I 

Christy— (Xovewp/3/) My Herman! 

Herman— All is forgotten 

Christy — All is forgiven— 

Music and shouts without. They start jovluUy andseperate. 

HERMAN..-Hark I That is old Michael's fiddle, and the mer- 



EVANGELINE. 11. 

;yr:K>:ig oa the green has comtneaced. Let us awav, and 
amon^ the happiest there will be 

Christy— My Herman ! 

Herman. — Sly Christy ! 

Exit runrdng aud laughing^ or waltzing^ Music, 



ACTUL SCENE Zrd. 

The Oreen in the village of Grand Pre. On r. a church wit y 
largg Orxwfixt Preperations for merrymaking. Refreshments, 
tables, benches <fcc» Musicx 
Villagers singing and asssmbling as curtain raises. 

Benedict, Basil and Villagers Discovered^ 

Benbdict» — Come, sires and mitrons, lads and lasses, come. 
Let this day 'be one of happiness and joy* Join in the song 
and the daucej for this is the betrothrai feast of Gabrial and 
Evangeline. 

Basil. — {Holding up flagon) In a flagon of home brewed ale, 
let us pledge the health of Gabrial, the Iron Hearted, and 
Evangeline the Sunshine of Saint Eulalie* 

Enter Gabrial and Evangeline. 

Ahh.— {All drinking) Good health and long life to Gabriaj 
and Evangeline. 

Gabrial. — f hanks my friends, thanks to you ail. 
Bbnedicti — Proclaim a general holiday. To-day Jet labor 
cease* Every houae shall be an inn where all are w^^Icomed 
andi>iasced, for here in tne vUia^a oi Graai Pi-e, all live like 
brothers together* All things stiall this Xiy oe held in com- 
mon, and wiiar jne has anofcner shall have, alsO/ 

All. — Hurrah for Benedict^ the good old farmer of Grand 
Pre! 

Gabrial, — Bvangeiinp, from this day a new life opens before 
us Hei-ecofore we have gro*vp cogecnai' lika ciiildren of one 
househoidy. and like children of on<^ household we were liable 
to be sundered and seperated oy the caanjd-' ol fortune. Now 
we are united by the strongest, holiest tie iinDwnto man, and 
soon we shall consecrate our Hves, each to the other, for all 
time to come. Are we not happy? 



EVANGELINE. 12. 

EvAEGELiNE,— We should be happy, Gabrial. 

Gabruii — Should hex Evangeline what mean you ? 

EvANGEiJNE. — I know not^ Gabiisl, but over n^y heart all 
this morning an undefined vision of evil has brooded. As 
we watched the sun descend last nighty did you not notice, 
Gabrial, as it dipped below the horizon a little cloudy scarcely 
larger than your band at firsty pass athwart its disc; and then 
as iwilight advanced it spread out iti a great black back, the 
edges iripged witL characters and gorte^Que shapeS/ contused 
and undefined^ indeed, but all, to me, presaging ilL 

Gabrial. — Banish the thought. Let no evil forbodiDgs 
mar this happy day, the harbinger of bappier o»es to com-p-. 
Put your trust in God, and remembei on this earth you now • 
have my strong arm to shield you. 

Evangeline. — Gabrial, dear Oabrial.- 

They go ujp Herman and Christy come dovm. 

Herman. — NoWyCbiisty, give me my answer.- Will yot» 
have me ? 

Chrsty.— Have you, you stupid bov; No. 

Herman. — Thmk ol the future, Christy. I don't cara so 
much for myf-ell, but think of what pof-terity will say.-* 

Christy.- — Posterity ? 

Herman. — Yes, if you won't have me our posterity will be 
dumb, and you wouklnU have adamb posterity^ would you. 

Christy. — (s7i2//^/) I never thought of that. 

BfERMAN.' — Then think of it now. (coaxingly) S&y yes. (puts 
arm about her) Think of me— of our posterity. 

Christy.— (fer«^'e/'3/) Well, then, for the sake of our posterity 
yes. Puts her arm about Herman. 

Enter Old Michael, with fiddle. 

Benedict. — Welcome- good Michael, welcome. 

All. — A dance / a dance! 

Michael. — Ah, it does my old heart aood to &ee you young 
folks enjoy youisekes. A hp:ppy youth, a happy old age, say 
I. ItP your mrrrf-,(: rrd rr^bbtd rhild that develops the 
shrew and the miser. I would have this world as full of 
music as my fiddle, {tunes fiddle) for life is not all sadness, not 
all tears', there is many a bright thread winding througb,(Hv»3- 
ly tune) tissues of a somber hue^ there is many a dark one 
woven in {sad notes) the golden ones between, and both youth 



EVANGELINE. 13. 

an d its golden tresses and old age and its silver hairs, look 
best in a glow of siinshine. 

ALL.~A dance! good Michael, a dance! 

Michael is placed 071 musicians stand. May pole dance at the end of 
zvhich drums are heard iviihout, alone/ with the rattle of 

arms and tramp of troopsj which continues along 
with Martial music until characters, have gathered at h. 
F, E.- Enter rapidly Officer and Guards. Guards are 
halted at r. u. e., Officer at r. 

Officer.— You are summoned this day by his majesty's 
orders. 

Easil — (l. F.)Summoned ! and lor what ? 

Officer — Clf mert acd kind has he betn, but how have 
ycu answeitd his 4iiLdnefcs ? iet your own hearts reply. To 
my natural make Rud my tempei^ painful the task is I do, 
which to jou 1 know myst be grevioub. Yet must I bow and 
obey and deliver the will oi my monaich. Kamely: '"That 
all your lands and dwellings ]' and cattle of ail kinds, forfeited 
be to the crown ] and that you, yourselves, from this prov-s 
ence be transported to other lands. God gram yon may dwell 
there e\er asfailhful subjects, a happy and a peaceable pec- 
pie. Prisoners I now declare you, lor such is his noajesty's 
pleasure. 

Characters form gro'ups of grief and astonishment. Guards 
extend line down right to front. Benedict totters to cmter 

Benedict. — Soldier do thy work j perform thine office — 
then return to thy king and tell him that thou fr-undst here 
columns of pale blue emokt^ like clouds of incense ascending 
from a hundred hearths, tbehcmes of peace and contentment, 
where dwelt together a colony of simple incadian farmers in 
love of God and man. Alike were they free from fear, that 
reigns with tyrants, and envy, the vice of Republics. [Neither 
locks had they to their doois nor bars to their windows ; but 
their dwellings were as open as the hearts of their owners ; 
there the rich were poor and the poorest lived in abundance, 
{Pause) Then tel] him hew ihou hast inared this scene 
and spread over all' — desolation. 

Officer. — Nor yet is this all. Families shall be seperated; 
wife from husband, parents from children, and lover from 
maid beloved— all shall be scattered broadcast over the world. 



a terrible example to ungreatfui subjects of the wrath ot 
kings. * 

Villagers form picture of despair, Gabrial up center supporting 
Benedict and Evangeline . 

Basil. — {advancing with sledge) Down with these tyrants of 
England ! We have never sworn the king allegience. Death 
to thflse forei'in soldiers who seize upon our homes and our 
harvests) seperating us from our wives and children. 

Officer ^on guard' Basil with elevated sledge — Picture. 

Gabrial passes Evangeline to Benkdict and takes place at side 

of Basil. Villgers in atitude of attack on soldiers. 

Officer. — {Ddliberately) Make ready / take aim ! Pause and 

Picture. Soldiers have obeyed orders^ and stand with muskets 

at 'aim' 

Enter LaBlance from leftuppzr entra'ice and advances rapidly to 

Center. Music. Picture^ Basil and Officer recover 

position'. Villagers cower hack. 

Officer. — {after a Picture pause.)'^QQO^Qr: ^vm.%. Guards obey, 
LeBlangel— What is this you do, my children! what mad«- 
ness has seized you ! Forty vears of my life have I labored 
among you, and taught you not in word alone, but in deed| 
to love one another ! Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigi 
lies and privations ? Have you so soon forgotten all my les- 
sons of love and forgiveness? There {pointing to church) is 
the house of the Priace of Peace, and would you profane it 
with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo, 
{pointing to crucifix) where the crucified Christ from his cross 
is gazing upon you ! See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meek' 
ness and compassion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the 
prayer: "Oh, Father, forgive them 1" Let us repeat that pray- 
er in the hour when the wicked assail us. Let us repeat it 
now and say: '"Oh Fathevj forgive them." 

Villagers kneel in semi^circle in front of LaBlance. At same 
time S'illiers divide and part cross at back of stage and form down 
left. Music and Picture . 

All Villagers.— "Oh Father forgive them I'' 



EVANGELINE. 1 5. 

Picture. Soldiers at rest, Villagers in attitude of Prayer. 

Music. Pause. Music changes as Scene at hack opens and 

discloses village of Grand Pre in flames. Villagers 

spring to their feet. and gaze wildly at scene. 
Guards bring their arms to a 'ready' Picture Ben- 
edict falls dead at center. Gabrtal and Evangeline 
how in sympathy over him. Guards seize and part them to right 
and left front, LeBlance kneels with hands extended 
over Benedict. Picture. 

All.— VV/ e shall behold bo more our homes in the village of 
Grand Pre I 

LaBlance— (w?ii/i uplifted eyes and hands) "Oh Father forgive 
them!" 

Evangeline. — Gabrial be of good cheer, for if we truly love 
one another nothing in sooth can haimns whatever mischance 
may happen! 

Tableau and Curiain,-~End of Ad 1st. 



EVANGELINE.- Vk 

ACT 2nd. 1SCIL::E l5-i. 

Cabin Scene on hank of the Likes. Rcmi of Herman and 
Christy. 

Herman^ CflRisTr, a>i6? Benedict an.<i Annette, their children, 

Discovered, 

Herman. — Has Evangeline been home to-day ? 

Christy. — N^o. I suppose she is again wandering through 
the woodS; or watching by the shore. 

Herman.— A.ye^ ev^er that restless, ceasless 'shadow haunts 
her. Ever isi she looking, searching for a presence that com:-3 
not. What a pity a maiden !50 fair and comely should waste 
herselt away brooding over a hopeless love. Foolish girl. 
Gabrial will never be found, or it he is, he'll be married; 

Christy. — I don't know about that He ' 7ved Evangeline 
dearly. She believes him faithful, Herman, and we'll do 
nought to shake her faith. Ah, never shall I forget thai ter- 
rible day at Grand Pre. 

Benedict. — Mother, t^U us more about Grand Pre. 

Christy.— It's a long story my child, and one we've often 
told. 

Annette. — But we never tire of hearing it. do we br hev ? 

Benedict. — No, indeed, we do not. You will tell us, fath r 
dear, won't you ? 

Herman. — Not nowj my children. Ah, Chrisry, the heart 
grows old, but memory and the love of the home of our 
childhood, never. Many a weary year has passed since the 
buMiing of Grand Prej whea on the falling tide ! je freighted 
vessels departed, bearing a nation with all its household gods 
into exile. Friendless, homeless, hopeless they wandered 
from city to city, from these cold lakes of the north, to the 
sultry southern savannas. From the bleak hills of the sees to 
the lands of the Father of Waters. Friends they sought and 
homes, and manyj despairing, heartbroken, asked of the earth 
but a grave; and no longer a home nor a fireside. Written 
their history stands on tablets of stone in the church yard. 
Others have made new homes in this new world and are pro 
perous^ but never, ah, never, will they forget Grand Pre. 

Christy. — And all these > ears Evangeline has waited and 
wandered, lowly and meek in spirit and patiently suflfering 
all things; leading a life incomplete, imperfect, unfinished. 
Ah, she comes, and with her good old Father LaBlance. 



EVANGELINE. 17. 

Enter Evangeline and LaElance, All rise, 

Herman.— Welcome, Father, welcome. 

LaBlance. — Peace be with you all. 

Herman. — Where have you been to-day, Evangeline. 

Evangeline. — Down by the shore, watching the waves 
and come, bearing upon their bosoms the wealth of nations 
and the loves of many homes, and hoping that, perhaps — 

Christy. — Gabrial might be on board one of the many 
ships passing acioss the horizon. Dear chiid, why dream and 
wait for him longer ? Are there not other youths as fair as 
Oabrial ; others who have hearts as tender and true, and 
spirits as loyal. Here is Baptistie, the notary's son, who has 
loved thee many a tedious year. Come, give him thy hand 
and be happy. Thou art still too fair to be left behind to 
braid St. Catherine's tresses. 

Evangeline. — I caonot. Whither my heart has gone there 
follows my hand, and not elsewhere. For when the heart 
goes before and illumes the pathway, many things are made 
clear that el^e lie hidden in darkness. 

LaBlance.— O, dfinehter, thy God speaketh within thee 
(to Christy) Talk not of wasted aifection ; ajOTfction never was 
wasted. If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters re- 
turning V>ack to the springs like the rairs, shall fill them full 
of refreshment. That which the fountain sends forth shall 
return again to the fountain. Patience! Accomplish thy la- 
bor of love; accomplish thy work of affection! Silence and 
forrow i^^ strong, and patient erdurence is Godlike. 'J herefore 
accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made Godlike, 
purified, strengthened, perfected and rendered more worthy 
oiHeaven. 

Evangeline.— Thank youj Father^ for those words. They 
nerve my heait for jet another trial Good frierds all; this 
day have I learned tidings of Gabrial. He lives with his fa- 
ther, Basil, the blacksmith^ far down the Mississippi in Lou- 
isianau Thither will I once more go in seaicli of him; hope- 
ing, prajing, that not as in times past, may ] find him already 
departed and gone hence. Good Father La Blance, will you 
accomiraDy me ? 

LaBlance. — The journey, my child, is a long and toilsome 
one; Yet trusting in heaven to guide us right, I will accom- 
pany thee, 

EvANGELiNEi — ThcD, Father, at the rising of to-morrow's 
sur. we will departs 

LaBlance. — Then will I tcMce and piepare all things for 



18. EVANGELINE . 

our journey, and kind heaven grant it may not prove in vain 

Exit LaBlanck, 

BvAN.iELiNB — (Gazing aHer him) Amani (Pause) Oome 
now my good friends let us all within, (or with the rismg of 
to-morrow's sua guid-^'l by faith^ nope ani love my search for 
Gabrial must be resumed; 

Benedict. — Don't go away from us a'^aiu Evangeline. 

xVnnettb. — Dan't leuve us Evangehne. 

Evangeline — It must be so my Utile darlings; and now a 
fond go)d night to you both. 

Evangeline kisses Children and they exit into the hoase^ accompa-* 
nied by Herman and Christy. 

Evangeline.— -(a/ter watching them off) Ah, how sad and 
weary are the years that pass in speechless sorrow. The dull 
throbs of an aching heart, ever nursing a hope it cannot ac-* 
Gomplish, wears away its life like the ceaseless drop upon 
^jhe everlasting granite. This is the last day I shall pass here 
among my kind friends, a fragment saved from the wreck and 
ruin of Grand Pre. Here we are all bond by a common creed 
and a common misfortune. That sua as it sinks to rest goes 
down to rise again upon a new day -to light another world 
now wrapped in sleep and darkness, and awaken it to life 
and activity. It will return to-morrow, and may its golden 
rays in the east lead me on to Gabrial, my life, my love. 

Enter Baptisti^. 

Baptistie. -Still wasting thy life away in sorrow and in 
tears. Believe me, there is no hope. 

Evangeline. —While there is life there is hope. Gabrial 
still lives, and faith in heaven nerves me on to labor and to 
wait. 

Baptistie.— Vain will prove all thy visions) and futile all 
thy efiforts. Its not in the scope of thini!;3 earthly that all 
the fragments of a nation scattered as wide as the ends of the 
earth should strive and be driven over seas and through 
boundless wildernesses to be at last reunited. It cannot be. 
Then why waste your life away against the inexorable decrees 
of providence. You know, Evangeline, that I have loved 
thee long, that in herds of sheep and cattle, roamimg over 
my o^n broad acres, I am rich. Be my bride and comfort 
and happiness will yet be thine. 



EVi^NGETINE. 19. 

EvANGELiNEx— Abj BaptiPtie- ppfak not tome of happiness 
without my Gabriai. JVie }our wile; tbt &baxer of your home 
You know not what you ask. The shadow of deepair would 
enter yoyr house with me, «nd its light would go out before 
the ever present cloud of a lingering and betrayed lovex 

Baptistie- Then f'are-th< e-well, Evangeline. I have spoken 
my heart freely and fain would have thee for my wife. But 
you say it cannot be, and I will rot pain thee by repeating 
the wish. To my home I will carry a nameless sorrow. Go 
OD your mission of love^ and as yon journey afar rest assured 
you have for your success the p^^ayers of poor Baptistje. 

Exit Baptistie, 

Evangeline. (^«2z>?(^ after /im)Fare-tbee-weU Baptistie. Fare-- 
thee«»wen friends 

Music. Picuture, 8cene closes in. 



ACT 2nd. SCENE 2nd. 

From Wood. 

Enter He'rua^ followed by Christy. 

'Bermav.— {Expostulating) T tell you Baptistie did wrong. 
He shouldn't have let her oJ3 in that wav- He ought to 
have shown his devotion by sticking to the point) and at least 
gotten her to promise if she did't find Gabriai in a month— 
or at most a year, she would be his bride, Now if I had let 
you off the first time you said no to me 

Christy. — {coquetishly) You would have broken ycur heart, 
wouldnH you dear, and I would have married some rich man 
and rode in my coach and four and 

Heeman. —That {snapping Ms fingers) for your ccach and four. 
You wt'Uldn't have done nothing of the kind, and besides 
rich men ain't picked up any thicker than gold dollars^ and 
I've never heard of you finding one of them yet. 

Christy, — J^ny one can see that when they lock at you, 

Herman,— Come now Christy, this won't do. We are breaks 
ing one of the golden rules of our married life, and that rule 
was always to talk to and never at one another, 

Christy.— Yes, 1 was in the wrong, Herman, Old Michael 



20 EVANGELINE. 

taught me many a good lesson, m his odd way, and I trust 
I have profited by them ; ^ id on? was always to walk on the 
sunny side of life, I find, as he said I would/ the shade comes 
to us soon enough. 

Herman- -{at c. taking both her hands) It's tea years now 
since we wore marriedv Br- fore t'-at hapoy event I believed 
you to be au aogel, and ever since, do you know, Christy, I've 
trembled for ft^ar you would turn into one and leave me, 

Christy. —And then we would never,, never I meet again/ 
would we? {Pause) I don't believe I would like that. 

Herman, — No, I know you woaldu't, Christy Why you 
would be as lonesomf^ as Evangeline without me to cheer and 
comfort vou. Now if Evanajeline and Gabrial had m-arried 
and settled down comfortably like you and me, and contrib" 
uted something to posterity how much better they vwould be 
off; and its not too late yet for the girl to make amends; if 
she would only marry Baptistie- Bur what does she do but 
refuse a good offer, and pack up and away this, morning to-^ — 
goodness knows where in search of some fellow she has heard 
looks like Gabrial Pshaw? Its all boshl 

Christy -Well, bosh or no bosh, Herman; its the one com- 
fort and solace of her life. We cannot fathom the mysteries 
of the human heart, nor weigh on all the balances of the 
world the wealth of one tt^ue womans love. And if ever there 
was a true woman it is Evangeline ; if ever there was a true 
love it is hers for Gabrial. Her faith and her love may be 
far, very far. beyond our comprehension, but if we were sep" 
erated {nestles close to him) let us ask our own hearts what 
would fill the void. 

Herman, —{caressing her) There, there, Christy; your'e com- 
ing the angel again, and the old boy is melted in me, {wipes 
his eyes) and Evangeline shant marry Baptistie, no not even 
if she wants to; the hard hearted rascal to pester the girl 
against her will. I'll 

Annette. — {without) Father ! 

Benedict. — Mother / 

Enter Children, running- 

Christy.— What is it; darlings ? 

Annette,— We've found a kitten's nest with five little kit- 
tens in itv 

Benedict- —Black and white ones ! and they aint got any 
eyes ! and their Oh ! come and see them ! 

Annette — Come along father ! 
Benedict^— Come along mother I 

Children pull them off, all laughing 



iSVANGELiiNE, 21. 

ACT2nd^ SCENE Srd. 

Bank qf Mississippi River. Evangeline seated on set rock as 

in well known picture^ LaBlance and others sleeping 

upon the ground- Lights down. 

Evangeline. — Diy succeods day and night follows night, 
and still my lone watcli Vm keeping. Will I never see my 
Gabriai more? 'Tis strange, but aii this day someihiag has 
whispered: 'thy Gabrial is near., Oh, heaven grant that this 
should be so, and thai the throbbing of my heart should 
prove in time my expectation true. 

Song J ''Long J Long Weary LaiJ'' 

Evangeline. — A sudden drearyness ov«>rpowers me, {rests 
her cheek upon her hand,) something in the night airwearys me. 
sleeps. 

Scene changes at back and discovers Gabrial and companions 
in boat on river. Gabrial standing in bow, others rowing 

CHORUS. — ' Lost Evangeline. ' 

Scene closes in — quick change —Music. 

EvATmGELi^HF..— {awakens and starts towards vision) Gabrial, 
my Gabrial, come back ! 

LaBlance awakens and comes rapidly/ to center ivhere they meet, 

LaBlance. — My chi'd, what would you ? 

Evangeline — Ohj it was but a dream! Still gazing after 
vision. 

LaBlance. — A dream ! What^ my daughter ? 

Evangeline, — Oh, Father LaBlance^ something says in my 
heart that hear me my Gabrial wanders- Is it a fooHsh dream 
— an idle vague superstition? or has an angel passed and re-? 
vealed the truth to my spirit ? AlaS| for my credulous fancy ; 
unto ears like thine such words have no meaning. 

LaBlance. — Daughter, thy wordi are not idle; nor are 
they to me without meaning. Feeling is deep and still ; and 
the word that floats on the surface is as the tossing buoy that 
betrays where the anchor is hidden. Th|refore trust to thy 
heart and what the world calls illusions. Gabrial truly is 
near thee; for not far away to the southward, on the banks 



22 EVANGELINE. 

of the Teecbe, are the towns of St. Maur an^ St. Martin. — 
There the long absent pa.'^lor regain? hi? flock and his sheep- 
fold. They who dwell there have named it the Eden of 
Louisiana. 
Evangeline. — At last. Oh, my God I thank thee. 

Picturei Boatuas awaken and prepare for journey. Stage has 
gradually changed to morning, sun is rising, birds singing. 

Boatman. — All is ready. 
LaBlance. — Come, daughter, come. 

Music. LaBlance leads Evangeline towards boat. Boatmen 
singing. Music and slow curtain, 

END OF ACT SECOND. 



EVANGELINE. 23. 

ACT 3rd. SCENE Ut. 

Plantation Scene in Louisiana. Home of Basil, Laborer'' s at 

work in the fields. View of the River: 

Farm house with large veranda —Scene as before the war 

Basil Discovered. 

Basil. — Ten years hare elap.sed since exiled and driven 
from ho.oe in the village of Grand Pr^, Gabrial, ray son; 
has wandered abroad seeking in all cliaies and all countries 
his bride^ Evangeline. Ever seeking^, ever returning weary 
hearted, to his hbme, older in years, but no wearier in spirit 
and hope to regain his lost love. (Bugle sounds) Ah, a boat 
approaches upon the broa 1 bosom of the Mississippi, — 
(A pause) It has landed, (pause) Its living freight is here. 

Enter LaBlance, Evangel[Me, and party. 

Basil. — Welcome, strangers, welcome. 

LaBlance> — Peace and a fair day be with you, sir. Can you 
direct us to the home of onii Basil, an exile of Grand Pre. 

EvangelinEl — (at left gazing anxiously at Basil) Oh, can it be! 

Basil. — If you mean Basilj the blacksmith, the exile of 
Grand Pre, ended is your journey and your toils. Older he 
he is in years, but no colder in heart. Basil stands before 
you. 

EyANGELiUE. — (rushing to him) My father! 

Basil. — (emhraciny her) Daughter ! Evangeline! 

Evangeline. — Yes, it is Evangeline; and this is our good 
Father LeBiance, whom neither age nor fatigue could debar 
from assisting in the search for Gabrial. 

LaBlance. — Just Beaven, wve thank thee! 

Eyangeline. — (gazing about) But Gabrial — wherej where is 
my Gabrial ? 

Basil, — If ye came from the North how comes it that ye 
have nowhere enscountered Gabriel's boat on the river or 
bayous. 

Evangeline —(«65^rac%) Gone! is Gabrial gone ? 

Ba3il — Be of good cheerj my child; it is only to«=.day he 
departed. Foolish boy ; he has left me alone with my herds 
and my horses. Moody and restless grown, and tired and 
troubled, his spirit could no longer endure the calm of this 
quiet existence. Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sor- 
rowful ever; ever silent and speaking only of thee and his 
troubles, he at length had become so tedious even to me, that 



24 EVANGELINE. 

at length I bethought me and sent him into the town of 
Adayes, to trade for mules with the 8paniardsj thence he will 
follow the lodian trails to (he Ozark Mountains, hunting tor 
furs in the forests, on riverp trapping the beaver. 
Evangeline. — (despondmily) Lost, forever lost! 
LaBlance. — Be ot good cheer, daughter; nothing is for- 
ever lost, when faith and hope lights the way. Thy Gabriai 
seeks thee, even as thou dost him. 

Basil. — Aye, be of good cheer. Heed well the words of 
thy Father. We will follow the fugitive lover. He is not far 
on his way; and the fates and the streams are against him. 
Up and pway to-morrow, and through the red dew of the 
morning, we will follow him fast and bring him back to his 
prison. 

Voices Without. — Loi.g live Michael, our brave old Arca- 
dian fiddlerv 

Enter laborers bearing in their arms Old Michael. 

Michael. — There, there, friends, sit nae down easy. Ladf? 
and lasses, it seems that my bones have grown as light a8 my 
heart, and far more weary. 

They seat Michaei. up stage. Evangeline and LeBlance 
approach and salute him. 

Basil. — Welcome once more my friends who long have 
been friendless and homeless. Welcome once more to a 
hen e that is better, prehpps than the old one. 

Michael. — Oh,,no! there can be no other homelike Grand 
Pre, the home of our childhood* 

All. — Never/ never! 

Basil. — Aye, better ! but perhaps not so warm in memory 
and afiection. Here no hungry wind congeals our blood like 
the rivers; here no stony ground provokes the blood of the 
farmers. Smoothly the plow-share runs through the soil as 
the keel through the water. All the year round the orange- 
grovts are in blossom; and grass grows more in a single night 
than in a whole Canadian summer. Here, too, numberless 
herds run wild und unclaimed on the piairies; here, too, 
lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber with a 
few blows of the ax are hewn and framed into houses. After 
your houses are built and your fields are yellow with harvest 
no King George of England shall driye you away from your 
homesteads, burning your dwellings aud bains, and stealing 
your farms and your cattle. 



EVANGELINE. 25 

MicuAEL.— tuning his fiddle) Only beware of the fever^ my 
friends, beware of the fever ! for it is not like that of our 
cold Arcadim climate, cured by wearing; a spider hang 
around ones neck m a nut shelL 

Eyiter Plantation Hands, Basil and friends seated on verandah^ 

old J ashioned plantation jubilee. Songs, dances and 

vjalk^arounds. At conclusion, 

Basil. — Away now, each to repose, the day breaks early, 
and there is worij for us all to-morrow. 

Michael. — (ITo'LeBlance and B\&\i,who assist him fonoard.) 
There, there, old frienda^ I declare my old bones act like a 
fiddle long out of use and creak at every joint. But there is 
music at the old heart yet, and will be until the master calls 
the final note and the tune is ended. 

Basil. — But that may not be for a long time yet; at least 
we hope so, good Michael. 

Michael — A long timc^ ! Ah, men measure time wrong all 
their lives. In their youth they fret against the bars that 
bind them from manhood and spurn with wanton feet the 
bright vvoofs that are woven about their piths, and thus they 
pass into manhood, scorning the things they do possess, and 
surcharging their hearts with envy ot objects unattainable, 
until they slip into old age, and sit inly counting their dark 
hours and bitter disaopoiutmentSj as all the wealth they have 
preserved, forgetting all tho golden hours that lie between. 

LbBlance. — But there isOnej good Michaelj who counrs the 
hours of all men by the bright raj^s which flash across the 
dial, and that record is as just to the beggar as to the king, 

Michael. — But kings and begga-s alike forget that in con» 
tentment alone there is rest, and this they could have secured 
anywhere along life's journey. Now I've been rich 
with only my fiddle, and content with only its notes] and 
more than this; I've had enough and to spare to make others 
happy around me, and my heart and fiddle have always been 
full of music and richer as they have mellowed with age. — 
Listen, {plays a bright, glad strain^ aud lets the notes slowly die 
away) 1 sometimes feel that I hear beyond, and catch a ray 
ot sunshine from the celestial world. 

LaBlancb — Life is also made for duty, to sanctify and puri- 
fy the heart, and fit it for a holier, better sphere. 

Michael. — Ah, good Father, I believe life was made for 
beauty as well as duty; that all things which instruct and 



26. lUVAiViiKLfNE- 

purify the heart, are but so maDy paths for duty, and the 
more bright and cheerful life's rugged ways are made the 
more freely the tender feet of man will follow them. It'a 
hard to make the timid of heart tread a path spread with 
thorns alone, no matter how bright the goal beyond is paint 
ed. I lift mine over the thorns thus, (plays) and to Old Mii 
chaelj both death and the grave are shorn of their terrors, 
and he sees only happine&s here and joy beyord Plays. 

Exit All except Evangeline. 

Evangeline. — Patience, my heart, until to-mcrrow. (Comes 
forward) , Gabrial / my beloved ! /srt thou so uear unto 
me, and jet I cannot behold ihee? Art thou so near unto 
me, and yet thy voice does not reacfv me? Ah ! how often 
have thy feet trod this path to the prairie! Ah ! how often 
thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me ! Ah! 
how often beneath this oak, returning from labor, thou hast 
lain down to rest, and 1o d-.eam of me in thy slumbers. When 
shall these eyes *iehold, these arms enfold thee again. My 
heart, be still — to-morrow ! 

Echo. — Still— -to-morrow .' 

Evangeline Icveels at left in attitude of prayer. Scene changes 

at back and discovers Gabrial in same attitude^ 

cross in hand. Camp scene of Indian 

Mission. 

END OF ACT THIRD- 



EVANGELINE. 27. 



ACTUh. SCENE IsL 

Camp Scene in Indian Mission. Landscape} mountain defile 

and distant cataract, &c. General view same as vision scene 

at end of last act. Government officers issuing supplies 

to Indians, a number of whom are gathered about 

in various attitudes, others enter and exit as 
they receive their supplies. Soldiers ongvard. 
Priest of Mission present in charge of his flock. Sup- 
plies are issued, and officers and soldiers march off. Indians 
disperse, and stage remains exact ly as seen at close of the last act. 
Music. 

Enter LeBlance, Evangeline and Indian Guides. 

Evangeline. — Day after day-j with our Indian guides, have 
we followed Gabriel's flying steps and thouj^ht each day to 
overtake him. Sometimes we have seen, or thought we've 
seen, the smoke of his camp-fire rise in the morning air from 
the distant plain, but at nightfall, when we reached the place 
we've found only embers and ashe-;. And though our hearts 
have been sad at times aud our bodies weary, hope has still 
guided us on. 

Priest. — Not six suns have risen since Gat)rial, seated on 
yonder mat, aud by my side, told me this same sad tale^ and 
then arose and continued his. journey. Far to the north he 
has gone, but in autumn, when the chase is done, will return 
again to the mission- 

Evangeline. — {wearily) Till autumn, then, let me remain 
with theGi for my soul is sad and afflfcted. 

Priest.—So seems it wise and well, {bell rings) but the 
chapel chimes call me away to holy service. Father LeBlance 
will you join me in our holy mission* 

LeBlance. — Evangeline, patience j still have faith and thy 
prayer will be answered. Look at this vigorous plant that 



28 EVANGELINE. 

lifts its head from the meadow; see how it's leaves are turned 
to the North as true as the magnate. This is the compass 
flower that the finger of God has planted here in the house- 
less wild to direct the t?f veler's journey over the sea-kike 
pathles'^y liVnitless wMs'-e of the desert. 

Evangeline.— Ob, my father, guide me. 

LbBlancb. — -Sufih in the soul of man is faith. The blos- 
soms of passion, gay and Inxusiar.t flower :, a'e brighter and 
fuller of fragrance. But they beguile us and lead us astray, 
and their odor is oieiuUy Oidy this plant can guide us here 
and hereaftf r. Grown us with a.cf hadel flowers, that are wet 
with the dews of nepenthe — the tear drops of heaven. 

Exit Le Blanc K and Priest. 

EvANGKLiNE. — {hows head and sobs) Gabrial, Gabrial — will 
we ever meet ag^in ? 

Enter Indian Maiden, who softly and unobserved approaches 

E VANCE LINE. MllSlC. 

Maiden. — My pale-fac*^d sister is sad. 

EvANGELiNE_ — Aye ! sad, very sad] iRnd heart-broken. 

Maiden — The Tame Fawn knows the story of her sister, 
and her heart is sad like hers. She, too, has loved and been 
beloved, but the biave Chief who wus to have made her the 
light of his wigmam returns no more to bfii'hten her eyes 
and make her heart glad^ 

Evangeline. — Poor child I poor child .' I do indeed pity vou. 

Maiden. — Tht; Tame Fawn has heard her sister's story. It 
is like that of the Mowa^ 

Evangeline — The M "was? and who was the Mowas? 

Maiden. — The story is long and might we^rymy pale-faced 
sister. 

Evangeline— My heart is weary, with longing, waiting, and 
will gladly listen. 

Maiden. — Mowas was the bridegroom of Snow, who won 
and wedded the maiden, Lillineauj but when the morning 

came he arose and passed from ihe wigwam, fading and 
meldng away and diesolviug into the sunshine. 

Evangeline. — And did be never return ? 

Maiden. — Day after day Lillineau toUowed his flying stepa 
and thought each day to overtake him. Slowly, slowly the 
days succeeded each other ) days^ weeks and months passed 



SVAx^GiiLINE. 29. 

the green spring, the bright summer and the mellow autumn 
passed and winter came again, but brought not Mowas. 

Evangeline.— (mwsin^/3/) Can this be my own story repeated 
to me? 

Maiden. — Thus the long, sad years glided on, and Lillineau 
came und passed among the villages and wigwams like a 
i-hantom. Fair was nhe, and joung, whe» in hope began 
the long journey. Faded was she^ ard oldj before it ended. 
Each year sfole something from her beauty, leaving behind 
ii bi . cder and deeper the gloom and the shad w. Ttien there 
appeared <^)Dd spread taint streaks of gray o'er her torehead, 
the dawn of another life that broke oyer her earthly horizon, 
tts in the eastern sky. the first faint s-treaks of morning. 
Evangeline. — (sadly) It i"^ the vision of my own existence. 

Maiden. — Then 'illineaa thought she was a child againj 
and woed by a pbantoniy that through the* pines o'er her 
lather's lodgo, in the hush of the twilight, bre&thed like the 
evening \\ind and whispered love to the mriden till she foK 
lowed his green and waving pUime through the forests and 
nevermore leturned, ix r was seen again by her people. 

Evangeline, — (musingly) A breath from the region of spir- 
its seems to fioat in the air oi night, and I feel as if I, too, 
like the Indian maiden, am pursuing a phantom. Slowly 
over the mountains the moon rises, lighting all things with a 
mysterious splendor. 

Scene changes and discloses beautiful Landscape. Distant 

view of Indian village at foot of mountain. Casca.des de^ 

cending, with stream, crossing in front. A ^dreamy and 

a mystical splendor' over alL A cloud descends 

and at the same time a flash of lighting passes 

across it and thunder is heard, and the 

Mowas persued by an Indian Maiden 

is seen in mid heaven^ (hrand 

transfvrmation scene, 

(&C., t&c, <tc. 

Maiden.— It is Lillineau in pursuit of the Mowas. 

Evangeline and Maiden in attitudes of awe and astonishment. 
Music and slow Curtain' 

END OF ACT FOURTH. 



30. EVANGELINE. 

ACTbih, SCENE UL 

Street. On one side a large Com)ent or Church. On the other 

an Alms House, Full stage set. Citizens passing and re- 

passing. General appearance of gloom. Solemn Mu-^ 

sicjrorn Church as Scene opens. 

Enter Benedict and Annette . 

ANNETTE. — Now, Benny, you kaow father and mother are 
to meet na here and was have to look after them a little while 
they are in the city, abd you shouldn't ask me to take a 
stroll with you through the park. 

BENBDicr. — Oh, that's all right, Netty. I only thought 
you would like a little fresh air after being shut up between 
the close walls of a boarding school so long. I'm sure I'm 
glad my term at college is outj and that we are going back 
to the old place m the coualry. Wo')'t Wd have fun, though, 
Netty? Parties on the lake, music, hunting; rowing and 
fisning! 1 declare, I can scarcely wait for ih a hour to ar- 
rive. 

Annette. — Nor I, either. I say, Benny, do you remember 
who was the best shot when we left home ha ! ha ! 

Benedict. — Yes, I do know. You caught me once when I 
wa^ a little 

Annette. — Out of practice, you said. But that won't do^ 
Benny; no, no — that won't do. 

Benedict. — Hush, Netty. Listen. 

Music from organ in church, and singing hy chorus of voices. 

Enter Herman and OHRiSTr. They meet and greet Benedict and 
Annette, while music continues, 

Christy*— Herman, is it not beautiful ? The low, solemn 
chords of music pealing forth praises to him who made the 
world and holds in his hands the destinies of all who are in it. 

Herman. — Yes, Christy, indeed it is; youth and its spright- 
ly joys are past with us, but praise be to Him who doeth all 
things well. Life to us has brought blessings instead of evils, 
joys instead of sorrows Our home has been made bright by 
the little ones who have grown up around us, and we have 
been happy and contented almost all the da>8 of ©ur lives. 

Christy. — Ah I Herman, you forget there has been one 
shadow upon our hearth and over even our lives — poor 
Evangeline \ 



EVANGELINE. 31. 

Herman. — Yes^ E^argelice'e life has indeed been a sad 
one, and a tinge ot iis blight has spread over even our paths/ 
but at last she has sought a reluge from the burden of her 
sorrows and cares, and, let us trust, is happy. 

OHRisyy. — Happy ! Aye] as a sister of charity here in the 
Convent of the Sacred Eeart,she goes from door todoor.minn 
istering to the warns of the dwellers in this plague-stricken 
city. 

Herman. — Aye ! a fearlul curse has lallen upon this city, 
hundreds of its people being daily conveyed to the church" 
yard. But amid all this disease and sorrow Evangeline pass- 
es unstricken, an angel of peace and ol mercy. 

Christy. — And finds hti reward in the blessings of the 
poor and lowly whom bhe relieves. Indeed Father LeBlance 
was ri^ht — afiection never was wasied. Her love lor lost Ga- 
brial has purifif d, sanctified her lile, and brought happiness 
and liie into maDy homes. 

HERMA>'.--See where she goes. 

E VAKGELiNE enters from Church as Sister of Charity. Music. 
Slowly crosses at hack and Exits into Alms House. 

Herman. — She enters the alms house, where the poor who 
have neither fnends nor attendants creep away to die in the 
home of the homeless. 

Christy.— There, they say, the dying look up into her face 
as if to behold the gleams of celestial light encircle her fore- 
head with eplendorj while she soltly repeats the words ot the 
Lord. ''Peace be with you.-" 

Enter Gabrial, very old and weah 

Gabrial. — Life weary and tottering upon the brink of the 
firrave^ at last I've reached the place where they say Evange- 
line siill lives and brea hes. Oh, iDercilul God I Thou, who 
tempts the wind lo the shorn lamb, uphold me now; let me 
not sink at the end of this weary pilgrimage, without once 
more clasping her in my aims — without once more gazing in- 
to her face — without one faiewell kiss, to make life's exit 
less terrible. 

Christy.— Who can this poor old man be? 

Gabrial.' — 'Twas here ihey said she dwelt, Life is but 
pause in the great volume of lime ] a brief period on the 
vast page of eternity. A breath, a gasp, and then oblivion. 

Hermak. — Poor old man^ he is plague stricken. 



32 EVANGELINE. 

GABRiALi — But to die so near and yet without one last look 
at my beloved. heaven, it is too bitter. My brain is on 
fire ! my senses reel! and de^th i=> luggmgaimy heart strings! 
Away — away! I say; I cannot — will not die! Oh;Evangeline. 
GabriaL about to fall is supported by Herman and Benedict. 
Herman. — Poor old man, permit us to assist you. 
Christy, — {startled) Said he not Evangeline ? 
Annette. — He did. 

Gabrial. — 'IS o, it is useless. Already I fee! the hand of 
death laid heavily upon ray heart} a few minutes more, and 
life's jonrney, with me will be at an end. 
Christy, —(quckily) Evangeline — did you say Evangeline ? 
Gabrial. — I did. Ohy Evp*ngelioe. my beloved! 
Herman. — Surely you do not mean Evangeline^ the exile of 
Grand Pre ? 

Gabrial. — I do. Do you know her ? 
Christy. — It is Gabrial 1 
Herman. — Gabrial ! ^ 

Christy. — Evangeline is near thee. For long years she 
fiomght thee and sought in vain, until at length, here in this 
holy convent, she ceased from wandermg and became one of 
God's messengers on earth, mmistering to the afflicted. 

Gabrial. — At last. 
Gabrixl sinJcs down. Herman and CnmsTY Jcneel over him. At 
some instant the door of the Alms House opens, and Evange- 
line and Le Blanc e Enter. Music. They cross to the Church 
kneel upon the steps, bow thsir heads and kiss crucifix : arise and 
about to enter. 

Benedict. — (who has approached them) Good Father. 
LeBlance. — What would you, my son ? 
Benedict.— Behf)ld. 
Evangeline and LeBlance approach Gabrial She kneels over 
him and takes his head in her arms, starts at recognition. Picture. 
Evangeline.— Oh, my God^ can it be. Gabrial! Gabrial! 
Father I thank Thee. 

Gabrial. — Evangeline! beloved Evangeline. Bless thee ! 
bless thee. Dies. 

Picture of grief LeBlance up center, standing ; all 
about Gabrial and Evangeline. 
LeBlance. — Man is unjust^ but God is just, and finally jusr 
tice triumphs. 

Lights have gradually turned down. Church becomes illuminated' 
and as curtain slowly descends, organ c$nd Chorus within, join 
in appropriate Latin HymxiL 

end of last act. 



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